Carpe Demon
by MelonMochi
Summary: (au/ooc/rinXamai and bonXamai) Amaimon used to be a demon king, a feral monster that devoured human flesh...until a horrific car accident wiped his memory.
1. Moments Before Dawn

**Author's Note: I don't have much to say other than a warning that I skip over unimportant things so it will feel a bit rushed in certain parts. I'm also a slow starter, so please bear with me. Pairings and all are in the description. Rated M for language, violence, gore, sex, etc.**

**Blue Exorcist belongs to Katou Kazue and Co.**

* * *

Tonight, I dreamed of standing in a meadow surrounded by a dense forest. The ground was thick with tall grass and wildflowers that swayed in the cool breeze like ripples across the ocean. Above me, the sky was monochrome in color and heavy with rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, drawing ever closer.

The trees, gentle and enticing, called to me, rustling their leaves as my name was carried with the wind.

And then I woke with an abruptness that startled me, feeling frightened and stiff. It was dark in my room, the unfamiliar contours of the bed frame making it impossible for me to find a comfortable position on the firm mattress. I finally gave in and lay still, trying to understand what it was that made me so anxious. Was it the voice, the disembodied tone that carried an apparent and ominous undercurrent? Or was it, perhaps, the desire I felt to answer it that worried me?

I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep and, instead of waiting for dawn, I eased myself upright. My roommate, Bon, was still asleep, snoring softly, the dark shade of his hair barely visible from under the blanket. Carefully, I managed to sneak to the bathroom by our entrance. I gently closed the door behind me and turned the faucet on high, pouring hot water down the drain. It fogged the mirror so, even if I gave in to the urge and looked, I wouldn't see anything.

I lightly dragged my fingertips against the puckered, ridged scar that ran across my right temple. It trailed back behind my ear, disappearing somewhere beyond my hairline. It was something I did each time I woke, a bad habit that doubled as an anchor to reality. I tried to make it disappear with concealer, I powdered it heavily every morning, but it was futile. Whenever I glanced in the mirror, even if I couldn't see it, I knew it was there, glaring at me, an ugly reminder that I would never feel whole.

Three months ago, I was found by a strange man on the side of the road, my head pinned between an abandoned car's front bumper and the guardrail. I was alive, somehow, and made a full recovery.

Almost.

I lost everything, forgot it like my entire life was a horrifying, repressed memory. I knew my given name and I knew I had been struck by a speeding vehicle, but everything prior was gone. I was a husk, cold and empty.

At first, no one claimed to know me and the loneliness I felt increased until I grew numb. I was so overburdened with all the pain, the hurt, the sorrow, the loss of control that one day I stopped trying to feel anything at all. But it didn't matter; I could never express myself without words. I didn't know how to smile or laugh, face set in a constant half-lidded, bored expression, like I was carved out of marble. I slowly came to realize that the more I wanted things to return to the way they were, the deeper I sunk into my protective shell of numbness, but this perception did nothing to curve my despondent attitude.

Eventually, the man who found me, Mephisto Pheles, (who I later learned was my older brother), enrolled me into his academy free of charge. He gave me a home, food, and an opportunity to pick myself back up and make new memories. Mephisto, dear big brother, struggled to remind me of the things I once enjoyed, hoping to spark something in the back of my mind. Video games, manga, anime, movies, food; it was exhausting to pretend just to make him happy. But he was unable to accept me, no longer the childish, impulsive troublemaker that begged him for candy.

I decided I would never be the Amaimon my big brother wanted me to be, so I stopped trying, refusing (unsuccessfully) to linger on these uncomfortable thoughts. I only wished that he could do the same. But I was afraid to tell him that, terrified that fate would take the last few shreds of peace I had left. I didn't want to lose him too, but I feared the love I felt for him was no more than a weak echo of the past.

Then I met Bon, my roommate. He was different from everyone else; he didn't heap on sappy platitudes, didn't pretend nothing ever happened to me, didn't press me for information, accepted me despite my missing fragments and liked me anyway. He was my very first friend.

I softly closed the bathroom door once I was finished. I was certain the bandage I applied to cover my scar appeared sloppy, but I was too afraid to look. With one last glance at the sleeping boy, I slipped on my shoes and hastily left the dormitory.

The cool, bitter evening wind brushed playfully against my hair, carrying with it the subtle scent of fried food. Late night snacks for the new students, I assumed. I ignored the growls from my protesting stomach as I left the academy grounds and concentrated on remembering the proper path to the park. The black sky, beautiful and vast, was speckled with white lights; it was the highlight of my midnight walks.

I often visited the swing set when the hospital environment became too much or when the night sky was clear. The crisp, outside air cleansed my mind and the sensation of being weightless as I swung back and forth seemed to make everything better. Just for a little while, all the bad things were gone, and I could allow myself to forget about the angst that had built up within me.

Tonight, however, I noticed someone occupying one of the swings. He stared at his feet and kicked dirt with his worn shoes. Unconcerned about his presence, I sat beside him, swaying gently back and forth. He raised his head to give me a bewildered frown, eyes a vibrant, piercing blue. We examined each other for what felt like a long time, the silence tense and awkward between us.

"Are you here to look at the stars, too?"

His eyes widened briefly before he glanced up at the night sky. Then he turned back to me with a small smile that brightened his face, surprising me. "I never noticed how pretty it was at night. I guess I should appreciate it more."

We both returned to watching the stars sparkle above us. "It is pretty, isn't it? Like someone brushed powdered sugar over black fondant."

He laughed, a warm, natural sound, as if he found amusement in many things. "I never heard it described like that before."

But his expression faltered and his face took on a somber, melancholy edge. A deep frown pulled at his lips, tears began to form in his effervescent eyes, and his arms trembled as his grip on the metal chains tightened. He bit his bottom lip, trying to suppress his emotions, and sniffled loudly.

"Is something wrong?"

"My father died."

"Oh..." That was uncomfortably sudden and I was at a loss for words.

I debated telling him that things would be okay, that, with time, his life would gradually become something that he would enjoy. But I didn't because it wasn't always true.

"We don't know each other, and I know nothing I say can make his passing easier," his eyes flicked to mine as I continued. "But it's okay to cry or feel sad." I paused, realizing that I was apathetic. I never had a father that I could remember and I couldn't sympathize with him. "What was your father like?"

And he told me. This stranger that I never knew until today, confided in me and it made me feel wanted, like I was doing something to help him. He told me about how perverted and humorous his 'old man' had been, how deeply he had cared for him despite his unruly, belligerent behavior, until rays of sunlight began to poke out from over the horizon of suburban roofs.

Finally, with puffy, red eyes, he stood. It was early and we would have to go our separate ways, but he allowed the thought to hang unspoken in the air.

"Thanks for listening to me," he said, his earlier, deplorable frown replaced by a small, friendly smile. "It was...kinda weird talking about this with someone I don't know, but I do appreciate it."

"Okay," I jumped to my feet. "My name is Amaimon."

"I'm Rin."

"Now we know each other."

His smile widened, childlike and sincere. "Do you have a phone? We could exchange numbers."

I complied, dug out my phone, and was greeted by an angry message from Bon. I had forgotten we agreed to go shopping for textbooks this morning. If I wasn't back soon, he'd make me buy lunch! "Maybe next time; I have to go."

"Wha – H-Hey! Wait!" He stumbled over his words, but his voice faded as I hurried down the street and back to the academy.


	2. Burdens of the Past

The muscles in my legs ached by the time I reached the dormitory. I crashed into Bon, who was exiting the bathroom, as I burst through our door. "You're late," he scolded. "We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago."

I pushed pass him and grabbed the printed list that lay neatly folded on my desk. "I forgot." I fingered it and pressed my lips together, hoping he wouldn't mention lunch.

In a typical Bon fashion, he rolled his eyes and let out a small, irritated sigh. "Let's go."

We had approximately two hours to browse the store and return before the entrance ceremony. Afterward, Bon had to attend 'cram school', a secondary school provided by the academy with specialized classes for students who met specific requirements. He never told me what these conditions were, but I didn't care enough to press him for more information.

We rushed out into the hall and attempted to weave through boisterous, uncontrolled boys searching for their new room numbers. Outside, the sun had risen above the horizon, warming the chilly April air. New students, who had appeared in droves overnight, crowded the sidewalk, huddled together in their little, personal groups, or desperately scanned the endless sea of uniforms for familiar faces. Everyone seemed to talk over someone else, creating a noisy, overwhelming atmosphere around the academy's main gate.

I remained close to Bon as we braved the masses, occasionally grabbing the strap of his bag to keep us from separating. It instantly became easier to maneuver once we moved away from the school and onto the less congested avenue.

The store was within walking distance of the school, but was still too far away for me to visit alone. I had come to remember the path to the park through repetition, and I can't imagine I'll be back here often enough to memorize the directions. I paid little attention to the landmarks and street names Bon pointed out to help me remember; I knew he was trying to help, but I honestly couldn't see myself coming back to this store for anything other than textbooks.

Books are just...boring, a waste of time. I'd rather play video games or watch movies on the Internet.

The building was a simple, two-story brick structure with white advertisements neatly painted in the windows and a faint, bitter coffee scent emanating through the open doors. Two True Cross students enthusiastically greeted Bon as we approached. His friends, I assumed. I impatiently waited as they socialized, peering into the store at the nearby display of Shakespearean plays.

"Amai," Bon called me away from the entrance. "These are my friends, Konekomaru and Shima."

"Hello!" Konekomaru was short with thinly framed glasses and a shaved hairstyle. He had a warm, friendly smile that reached his eyes and brightened his boyish features. It was rather comical seeing him next to Bon, who was at least a foot taller. Still, he was uninteresting and, though likeable, did little to hold my attention.

Alternatively, Shima's dull pink hair and wide grin aggravated me. I instantly disliked him, though I wasn't certain what brought about such a sudden, vehement reaction. I huffed at him, annoyed, and turned away.

"This is Amaimon," Bon explained. "He's my roommate."

"Amai, is it?" I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders. "I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you like sweets?" Shima's voice was thick in my ear and I trembled as I resisted the urge to hurt him.

"On occasion," I replied flatly, shrugging his arm off.

His grin widened with amusement as he noticed my reluctance. "Y'know, I can introduce you to a few sweet girls," he winked, "if you know what I mean."

Bon nudged him violently with his foot. "Can you stop being a perverted little shit for five minutes!?" His two friends laughed amongst each other. I couldn't understand the humor in his words.

It'd be much more comical if Shima was disemboweled and fell over with his guts tastefully decorating the street, but somehow I don't think Bon would find that funny.

"I was just trying to be friendly," he chuckled, a sharp sound that sent flickers of anger through me.

Bon shook his head, embarrassed by his friend's greeting. "C'mon Amai, I'll show you how to find what's on your list." I followed the trio in, instantly drawn to a small cafe in the corner. But I was pulled away just as I decided on a blueberry scone and small mocha latte as a midday snack. "Later, okay?"

"Fine," I mumbled, stomach protesting quietly.

The store was organized by sections of shelves that were packed with books separated by genre. Large signs hung down from the high ceiling, distinguishing each area. It was quiet and relaxing, the murmur of low voices and shifting pages a gentle hum in the air. After a quick explanation about how books were alphabetized by an author's family name, I was set free to search for the required texts. I found it to be a fairly simple task, despite this being my first trip to a bookstore, and I was, surprisingly, the first one to find everything successfully.

I wandered around aimlessly for a bit until I found Bon in the section labeled 'demonology'. A small, black speck hovered delicately above the book he was reading. For a moment, I thought it was a dust particle, but as I approached him, I realized it was making noise. It had two wide, green eyes and stared up at me curiously. Startled, I stared back, wondering if I should greet it or flick it away.

"It's a book about plants."

"Huh?" I tore my eyes away from the speck to meet Bon's concerned gaze.

"See?" He flipped through the page, revealing numerous, detailed sketches of plants and flowers. "It explains their medicinal uses."

"I know most of these," I noted, though mostly to myself.

"Really? Maybe you can help me study," he chuckled, but, again, I couldn't find the humor in his words.

I instantly knew the name of each sketch I examined, as well as what temperature they preferred _and_ how to treat the soil before planting seeds. "This one is used for burns," he turned the page, "this one helps with pain," next page, "this one has poisonous berries, but the stem can be used to make an adhesive to protect shallow wounds." It was frightening how easily this information came to me.

"That's incredible... Where did you learn all this?"

"I can't remember." My response caused an awkward silence to settle.

In an attempt to distract myself, I turned my attention back to the floating speck. It gave a little growl, then charged forward and softly bumped against the bridge of my nose. Annoyed, I blew a puff of air at it, causing the creature to twirl out of control and land against Bon's cheek. He didn't notice.

"...Do you know what an exorcist is, Amai?" His tone was hesitant; as though he wasn't certain if the question was appropriate.

This, for some reason beyond my comprehension, made my veins fizz with anger. I wasn't appreciative of his scrutiny and wanted to make this known. I usually tried not to give in to my impulses, to have more self-control, but they were like urges and I gradually discovered, most of the time, I couldn't hold them back.

I held a breath, struggling to suppress the itch. "No." Success. My answer was quick and firm, but lacked hostility. However, it was a lie. I knew what exorcists were from the television at Mr. Doctor's office. He often had it set to the local news and occasionally stories of their endeavors would pop up.

"True Cross Town has a lot of exorcists," Konekomaru's voice resounded from behind me. "It's a little surprising you don't know about them."

"Are they _really_ that important?"

"Kinda," Shima rudely entered our conversation. "They protect us from things normal people can't see."

"Amai," Bon started, "I think you'd make a good exorc-"

"No!" I instantly blurted it out, throwing all consideration away. I didn't want anything to do with exorcists or demons or angels or ghosts or whatever; the very thought unnerved me. Calmer, I attempted to explain myself, "I'm not interested in supernatural things."

"It was just a comment," he shook his head, disappointed at my stubborn backlash, and then turned to his friends. "We should get back before we're late for the entrance ceremony." The boys agreed and, as we made our way to the register, the black speck followed us, flitting playfully about in my peripheral.


	3. The Monster in My Chest

The opening ceremony, though incredibly boring, went quickly thanks to the black, bug-like creature that had followed us from the bookstore. I figured it was attracted to Bon's plant book as it squeezed itself out of his bag three minutes in to the first speech. The speck was interesting to watch, but quickly became annoying as it continuously hissed and bumped into me like it was trying to attack. When the students began filing out of the auditorium, I snatched it out of the air and crushed it in my palm. A satisfying sensation followed as its fragile body compacted in my grasp. It left a black, soot-like powder that I wiped on Bon's sleeve. He gave me a sharp glare, but didn't mind otherwise.

Actually, I'm not certain he could see them. They were fairly common, like flies, but he never paid any attention to them. I suppose I didn't either; they were background images, seamlessly disappearing into the environment.

Bon was kind enough to walk me back to the entrance of our dormitory, though wasn't kind enough to acknowledge my presence. I lagged behind the trio, becoming increasingly aggravated as I listened to their fervent conversation. I clenched my fists around my bag, knuckles white, and ground my teeth in mute frustration.

I know I was being childish. These were his close friends, people that he's known his entire life while I had known him for barely two weeks, but I couldn't swallow the distinct feeling of animosity. Envy slithered through me, coiled around my heart, and squeezed, hazing my already incoherent thoughts.

Bon was special to me and I wanted to be special to him, but feared I would never be more than a fourth wheel.

He paused as we finally reached the doors, like he'd forgotten why we came all this way. When he turned to me, my anger dissipated. "I'll be back around six." He didn't give me his usual smile. "We can have dinner together then." I nodded and watched as the three of them walked away, their unwanted laughter ringing in my ears.

My inexplicable, vehement irritation returned quickly, and I found myself shoving students aside as I climbed the stairs. Alone in my room, I dropped my bag and buried my face in the neatly spread blanket.

Anger turned to sadness, frustration to disappointment, and soon I was blankly staring at the wall, wondering why these emotions were festering in my chest. Bon just...had a way of destroying the barrier I had built, allowing me to feel the things I so desperately despised. But I couldn't bring myself to stay away from him. I wanted to be near him, always, even if it meant suffering in silence.

His unique ability to make me feel human was like a drug. And I was instantly addicted.

Bemused and alone, I decided to spend my free time at the park rather than sulking on my bed. My body felt heavy as I turned away from the dormitory and onto the familiar path. I tried not to think too much as I walked, concentrating on the cracks in the concrete and the chorus of birds.

I slowed my pace as a small breeze rustled the blooming blossoms on the trees bordering the walkway. Loose petals twirled and danced around me, bringing with them a fresh, crisp, flowery scent. It was beautiful, captivating, and, as I watched the wind carry the soft, cerise petals to the ground, I forgot why I was here, mind enthralled by the serenity of early spring. I closed my eyes against the gentle breeze that playfully ruffled my hair.

...And smelled something similar to burnt cedar.

"Here's the cram school key."

"Key?"

Recognizing a pair of familiar voices, I rounded the corner, startled to find the blue-haired boy from yesterday. He wore a school uniform, a rather convenient surprise, and held an elongated, red case with a golden, floral design. I felt a surge of excitement, faced with an opportunity to make another friend, but I couldn't remember his name and hesitated with my greeting.

"Hello," I managed, approaching him in spite of my uncertainty. When he saw who it was, his eyes widened briefly and then his face took on a bright smile. I noticed a small, white dog as it scurried away, hiding behind his legs.

"Uh," his voice trailed off awkwardly. "What was your name again?"

"Amaimon. Everyone seems to favor the name 'Amai', though."

"Oh, right! Rin."

"Hello, Rin." We paused as an awkward silence settled over us.

"So, uh," he began, fidgeting with the strap of the case that hung over his shoulder. "About exchanging numbers..."

"Oh," I pulled out my phone. "I forgot about that." He gave me a vivid, amused grin. I saved him under 'Okumura Rin', purposely neglecting to tell him how familiar his family name sounded. We spoke for a while, trying to find common interests, until the dog tugged on his pant leg.

"I have to go, Amai. I'll talk to you later?" I nodded and, after giving me another brilliant smile, he picked up the animal at his feet and hopped down to the ground below the bridge.

The wind picked up, but I ignored it, continuing down the path until it opened up to a neighborhood. As I neared the park, I heard the sound of fluttering wings and bitter, belligerent laughter. Three boys, around my age, I assumed, were grounding pigeons in the park by clipping their wings with a crossbow. I stayed on the other side of the chain link fence, watching with intense curiosity.

It looked like fun.

"Hey!" the boy with white hair called to me. I felt as if I knew him.

"Hmm?" His name was on the tip of my tongue.

"Amaimon? What the hell are you doing here?" He stepped toward me, eyes narrowed and brow pulled together in a bemused glare. His two friends trailed closely behind, remaining silent, a mixture of concern and confusion on either of their faces.

"I came to sit on the swings."

"_Swings_?" He dragged the word out, face twisting into an amused grin. "You, the _Earth King_," he scoffed, "came to a park to _play_ on the swing set?"

His tone made my anger flare and, for the first time, I glared at him, scowling. "What_ I_ do is none of your business,_ Astaroth_," I spat his name, surprising the both of us.

"Whoa," he chuckled, running a free hand through his dirtied, disheveled hair. "Calm down, little brother; I was just messing with you." He stretched his arms in a welcoming manner that looked less than friendly. "That's what brothers do, right?" His smirk took on a dark edge and familiar, little black bugs began to converge around him.

"R-Reiji, maybe we should leave," one of his friends stuttered quietly, but was ignored.

A pigeon chirped nearby, flapping its wings desperately, writhing in pain caused by the thin arrow impaled through its small body. I hopped over the fence and shoved it aside with my foot. This was typical of Astaroth, I realized, bringing small animals to the brink of death and then leaving them to die in painful solitude. He would come back to eat them later, when their bodies were rotted and festering with pus.

"Do my brothers also pick on creatures weaker than them?"

"_Like you_!?" Astaroth threw his head back and roared. Horns jutted out from above his ears and curled sharply, the discolored ends of the bone pointing out. A white tail emerged from under his shirt, whipping wildly back and forth. His claws extended, long and curved. The black specks surrounded him like a fog of gnats.

I stumbled back, frightened and astonished, pressing my weight against the fence behind me. The other two students only cautiously stepped away, as if they were unaware of the transformation he'd just endured. I straightened myself, trying to hide my trembling hands, and glowered at him. "I think you'll find me more of a challenge than a flock of pigeons."

"Is that so? Then, let's play, baby brother." His aggressive grin twisted his filthy features, causing an eager chill to trickle down my spine.

* * *

**Author's Note: ****I had a hard time picking out a title for this chapter, so apologies if it doesn't fit.**


	4. The Truth No Longer Thrills Me

Before I had a chance to prepare myself, Astaroth crouched low and, in one swift movement, launched himself at me. I grabbed the ends of his curled horns to keep them from goring me and allowed the fence behind me to absorb most of the impact. It buckled loudly under us, causing me to lose my footing. I brought my knees up and tossed him aside. Quickly, I scrambled to my feet and positioned myself into a fighting stance.

Astaroth was incredibly fast, but I seemed to know what to do without thinking, my body automatically countering his attacks. He punched, I blocked; he kicked, I sidestepped. But this pattern of attack and dodge didn't last long. His attacks grew more aggressive as he realized he wouldn't be able to land a hit this way.

He dropped down as I reared back to punch him and kicked at my legs, knocking my feet together. I landed on my side and swept my leg under him in retaliation, causing him to fall beside me. He was back up before I had the chance to catch my breath.

"Both of you stop! Reiji!" A student I recognized as one of Astaroth's 'friends' pleaded for us to stop our fighting.

I ignored him and spun to kick my brother, but my leg was blocked by his arm. I wasn't going to stop; I was having far too much fun. If only Bon would fight me like this...

We both paused as Astaroth turned his attention to the boy who shouted at us. He took a few cautious steps back as he approached. The second student was on the other side of the park, near the dead pigeons, trembling. "Stay out of this," he muttered, eyes squinted, teeth clenched, forehead wrinkled with unrelenting fury.

"B-But Reiji-" he was silenced when Astaroth let out a guttural growl.

"I said shut up!" He grabbed the innocent student by the collar of his shirt and threw him at me.

As I caught his body, the two of us tumbled to the ground. He scrambled to his feet with a terrified shriek and clamored out of the way just as Astaroth attempted another attack. I pulled myself up, grabbing his arm just before his fist made contact with my face, and snapped it back, ripping his shoulder out of its joint. He wasn't affected and spun around with a powerful kick.

The edge of his heel clipped my scar. Pain immediately flooded my mind and I stumbled to my knees, holding my head. My vision swirled and, for a moment, I lost control over my senses. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears, the harsh rasp of my breath, and the intense beating of my heart, a cacophony of discordance. Everything slowly returned to me as I breathed deeply to keep myself from panicking. I knew he was mocking me, laughing, but his voice was muffled like someone had shoved cotton into my ears.

Astaroth punched me before I could regain my balance, knuckles slamming into my cheek. I returned it with a hard double tap; one for hitting me and one for underestimating me. He tried to throw another punch, but his aim was off. I caught his fist easily, elbowed him in the ribs, and flipped him over my shoulder. Taking advantage of my opponent's temporary incapacitation, I straddled his hips and beat him, punching him over and over in the same spot. Blood sprayed onto the grass, stained my sleeve, dribbled down his chin. He eventually brought his arms up to protect his face.

"Alright, alright," he coughed weakly. "You win! Now, get off before you break my new host's face!"

I complied, sitting beside him and easing him to an upright position.

Astaroth spit out the blood that had gathered in his mouth and grinned. "Nice right hook."

"Why did you attack me?"

"Why not? Better than shooting pigeons." I suppose that's true; birds won't put up much of a fight. He groaned loudly as he popped his shoulder back into place. "So, why are you attending True Cross?" he asked, eyeing my uniform.

"Is that a problem?"

"It just doesn't seem like something you'd do."

"People change."

He narrowed his eyes at me, deepening his frown. "Demons don't."

"I'm not a demon."

Astaroth gave me a dumbfounded, open-mouth look before bursting into wild laughter. "What? Dude, you're shitting me, right?" He spoke through heavy breaths.

I grabbed his throat and squeezed, cutting his aggravating laugh short. "Shut up." He winced and grabbed my wrist, trying to squirm free. "I am _not_ a demon."

"Okay... Okay!" I released him. "Shit. Demon or not, you have the strength of one," he hissed, rubbing his reddening neck.

"What did you mean when you said you had a 'new host'?"

"Answer my questions first," he insisted, face now void of emotion. I nodded. "How did you learn to fight this well in a human body?"

I couldn't understand what he was asking me, but I attempted an answer, "I woke up like this."

"Woke up?" he mused aloud, brow scrunched in thought. "What do you mean?"

"I was in an accident and suffered brain damage. Mr. Doctor called it a 'traumatic brain injury', I think."

"...You lost your memory?"

"I just recently reclaimed the ability to turn short-term memories into long-term ones, so I was allowed to continue my high school education."

"And you enrolled in True Cross?"

"Yes."

"Well, that explains why you think you're not a demon," he thought aloud, leaning back against the fence. Astaroth turned his gaze to the sky and I joined him, both of us watching the thin, gray clouds lazily float by.

"You never answered _my_ question."

"Hmm?" He glanced at me. "Oh, the host thing," he paused, gathering his thoughts. "His name is Shiratori Reiji. I possessed him a week ago and was exorcised shortly after. But he's a stubborn little shit; he relapsed the next day and I decided I wanted a host for a while."

A disturbing thought crossed my mind and made my skin prickle with goosebumps. "Is he...still in there?"

Astaroth chuckled, a dark chortle that resounded uncomfortably in my mind. "No, that's why it's called a _permanent_ host."

We lapsed into silence, a soft, refreshing breeze cooling my heated body. I wanted to remove my sweater, but the scars that decorated my arms embarrassed me. I glanced around the park as a distraction, disappointed by the scene. Feathers and bloodied pigeon bodies were scattered around the short grass, staining the soil and emitting the terrible smell of death. The swings creaked noisily with the wind, swaying slightly. Across the street, branches and leaves from the trees waved with the breeze... And someone very familiar was walking down the path.

Even from a distance I recognized the pattern of his hair; dark russet nestled around a thick honey stripe. I watched Bon until he neared the chain link fence.

"Amaimon," he called, waving me over.

I scrambled up to my feet and hurried over to the bent fence. "You came to get me?"

"Of course I came to get you! Let's go, it's almost seven; I'm starving." Bon turned sharply on his heel, bag jerking with his movements. He didn't wait for me and began walking back up the path to the bridge.

"Bye, Astaroth." My brother waved a hand lazily at me in response, arm shielding his eyes from the setting sun. Bon stopped me once I caught up, brow pulled together in a concerned glare.

"Who was that?"

"That was my," I hesitated. I had a hunch telling him that Astaroth was my brother _and_ a demon wasn't a good idea. "He's my friend."

"You fist fight your friends?" He raised an eyebrow.

"We were playing. It's fun."

"_Fun_?" His tone was heavy with disbelief, expression bemused and yet angry.

I shrugged. "We used to fight all the time as kids. It's like a game to us."

He shook his head and continued on the bridge, petals dancing around him. "If you keep making friends like this, you'll end up in the hospital."

I tilted my head. "What's wrong with that? Mr. Doctor already knows me."

"Not funny," he snorted. "Also, I haven't forgotten about our _deal_ this morning. Since you couldn't buy lunch, dinner is on you."

Damnit.


	5. Then There Was One

The days went by slowly, painfully boring increments of time that lagged on in uneven lurches. My first day of high school was partly interesting, though barely enough to hold my interest. The following days were rather dull and unmemorable; the assignments were hilariously easy, the lectures were difficult to pay attention to, and my classmates were less than amusing. Most of the other students didn't acknowledge me; most that did, however, seemed to enjoy making fun of my hairstyle.

I'm still not exactly certain what makes it so comical. It's just hair.

Thankfully, I only had to spend half my day at the academy's main building.

Because of the severity of my accident, Mr. Doctor only allowed low-tier academic classes. I could pick up electives once I felt confident enough. Big brother wasn't too thrilled upon hearing this, but complied nonetheless. This meant I had five hour-long blocks rather than the usual eight; I had one class after lunch and then I was free for the day.

On Fridays, after school, I was to report to the hospital for weekly examinations. It wasn't far; just pass the park that I had already made apart of my daily schedule.

The sky was clear with only a few thin clouds drifting by, a relief from the storm that had plagued True Cross the previous day. It was warm and bright; perfect spring weather. Trees rustled with the slight breeze, grass swayed delicately, plants blossomed in flower boxes; it was beautiful and pleasantly soothing.

Yet, despite the effervescent atmosphere, I couldn't swallow a sudden swell of dread that crashed into me.

It was inexplicable, unwanted, something beyond my comprehension, and that frustrated me. I had walked this exact path to the hospital a number of times and not once had I experienced anything this foreboding. It was as though something was calling out to me, beckoning with the wind.

If I hesitated, listened closely, I could hear my name.

But I shook my head and ignored it. These appointments with Mr. Doctor were vital to my mental health and I wasn't going to brush it off because of some bad feeling I had. I paused by a few of the shops to distract myself, curiously peeking into their lively interiors at the products on display. Nothing caught my interest and so the feeling continued to fester in the back of my mind, churning my thoughts, making them incoherent. It was unbearable, like someone was forcing it into my head.

My mind became hazy, confused, overwhelmed, and eventually, just before entering the hospital's parking lot, I gave in completely and followed it.

The voice was louder know, guiding me, a cacophony of unrecognizable tones echoing off the walls. It led me down an series of alleys and to a part of town I've never seen before. Warehouses lined either side of the small road, each with large, monochrome doors that were padlocked for the upcoming weekend. I noticed engine parts and an old truck that lacked wheels sitting atop concrete blocks in one of the storage yards as I hopped a tall, chain link fence. Familiar, black specks began to form in a fog around me, following me.

They chirped wildly and tugged on my sleeves as if they were trying to tell me something.

"What?" I tilted my head, unable to comprehend their peculiar language. "Did you call me here? Why?"

"_Squeak_!" One of them twirled toward a nearby warehouse and flitted into a broken window, others hovering closely behind it.

I wasn't dressed appropriately for this and knew I would regret trespassing when I found tears in my new sweater, but my curiosity was overpowering, and soon I found myself carefully slipping into the window. It was dark and damp and I couldn't see where the black bugs had gone. Broken glass crunched under my feet as I blindly searched for a light switch of some kind.

Unfortunately, what I grabbed was not a switch.

It had a smooth texture and felt warm and round. I was startled when I carried it back to the window and discovered it was staring back at me. It was a mustard colored ball with dark green arms and odd, spiral-like markings decorating its body.

My brow scrunched together in consternation and I shook it violently, thinking it was some sort of foreign toy. It cried out and tightly held my arms as I did. An immense feeling of guilt quickly rose within me and, confused, I stopped.

"What are you supposed to be?" I mused aloud. He purred and...

And pulled himself into my chest in a gentle, comforting hug. I was taken aback, startled, incoherent, and yet...content. I placed my hand on its head, between two pairs of stubby horns, and scratched him. He looked up at me with wide, bright green eyes, almost smiling.

"You were the one who called me." He made a strange, pleased sound in response. My heart inflated and I feared it would explode. "Okay. I'll take you back home. What's your name?" He tilted his head in a similar manner to myself. "Behemoth. Your name is Behemoth." I'm not certain why I picked that name; it was the first thing that popped into my mind and it fit him.

Behemoth didn't seem to hear me and began to tremble in my arms. Agitated, he tried to hide in my sweater, burying himself under the hem of it.

I smelled what had frightened him before I saw it: a spicy scent pervaded the air, like burning cedar. Immediately after, the dim room of the warehouse was filled with an intense, blue light. I recognized everything, the smell, the shade, the ominous, heavy feeling, but as soon as I remembered exactly what it was, I forgot again.

But I did know one thing: it was killing them. Creatures like Behemoth. They had hid here, used it as a sanctuary, and now were being slaughtered like pigs.

He whimpered quietly, writhing uncomfortably against me. My protective instincts kicked in and I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to destroy whatever caused that blue light. I released him, allowing him to crawl up and cling to my shoulder, and crept to the barely visible outline of the doorway. Slowly, the light faded entirely, though the scent remained strong. As footsteps approached us, and as I caught sight of a familiar figure, my desire to fight waned.

"...Rin?"

He froze and the sound of metal scrapping against something resounded in the ruined hall. He clicked a flashlight on, pointing it at the ground. We stared at each other in awkward silence, wide-eyed and shocked.

"Amaimon? Get out of here, it's dangerous!" Frustration pulled his black eyebrows together.

"If it's dangerous, why are _you_ here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Yeah, well... This is kinda like a class." Behemoth, still perched on my shoulder, hissed at him. Instantly, Rin's demeanor changed; his tone rose in pitch and his expression became more animated. "Hey you found it! Yukio," he called over his shoulder to someone I couldn't see or hear. "I got the last one!" He turned back to me with a bright smile. "Sorry about the attitude; I've been looking for this guy for four hours."

"You've been here for _four hours_?"

"_I know_," he rolled his eyes. "Being a page sucks. I mean, when do I get to fight big, scary monsters?"

He's an exorcist. I remember briefly discussing them with Bon, but this time, the idea frightened me. I took Behemoth in my arms and stepped back. I knew what he was doing here now, the reason behind the burning scent and blue light, but I didn't want to accept it. Rin wouldn't do something like this; he's too compassionate.

"Give it to me and I'll take care of it." He held out the hand that carried his flashlight. "Hey, after this let's go get lunch!" I glared at his outstretched arm and stepped further back. "C'mon Amai, I'm exhausted." His voice was harder.

"No," I spat, tightening my grip. "I won't let you take Behemoth."

"You named it?" He raised a brow. "Is that your familiar?"

"Yes," I answered without thinking or having a full understanding of the term he was using.

"Cool! But, if you have a familiar, why aren't you attending cram school?"

"I'm _not_ interested." I was beginning to get sick of True Cross's obsession with the supernatural.

"Are you kidding? How can you not be interested?" His voice was heavy with innocent surprise. "Being an exorcist is fun! You get to fight _demons_! How cool is that?"

I was immediately offended at his response. "_Cool_? _Fun_?" Anger flickered through me, burning my chest. "_My_ definition of fun is sitting in front of a computer all day. _Your_ definition of fun is killing innocent creatures!"

"_Innocent_?" Rin was disgusted by my word choice and just as angry as me. "Do you know what a demon is? They're monsters!"

"The only monster I see is the one standing in front of me."

He stepped forward and tightened his grip on a sheathed sword I hadn't known he was carrying. His eyes were squinted, his jaw clenched, his forehead wrinkled; he seemed to be glaring at me with vicious, unveiled loathing. Flickers of red were hidden in the depths of his eyes.

I released Behemoth and prepared myself for a fight.

* * *

**Author's Note: A bit long for what I'd like, but I hope everyone enjoyed it! I want to apologize if the story is boring; I've been using the past chapters to establish Amai as a human character and get a basic idea of his relationships. The next chapter has more ****incredibly dull **inner monologue, but after that I'll stop dragging it out. Promise.


	6. I Still Love You Sometimes

_Rin lowered his sword and nodded. "You're right, Amai. This is cruel." He paused, glancing over his shoulder at the supposed destruction he had left during his extermination. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt your familiar."_

"_...Or any other innocent animals."_

_He sighed but gave me a genuine smile. "Or any other harmless demons. Promise. We cool now?"_

"_Fine... We're cool." I crossed my arms, showing I was still reluctant about trusting him._

"_Neat familiar by the way!" He rushed over to examine Behemoth. "That's a baby hobgoblin king, right? Yukio told me about them once when-"_

"_Did you make that blue light?"_

_Rin was shocked by my question and stared, unblinkingly, at me with vibrant, cobalt eyes. "Y-You saw that? I, uh..."_

"_Nii-san?" A brown-haired boy no older than myself emerged from the shadows. His hair was neatly styled and he wore thinly framed glasses._

"_Shit," Rin let out a small sigh. "Don't do that, Yukio."_

"_Amai, correct?" I didn't respond, still irritated. "Nii-san is right."_

"_I am?" Rin's face lit up._

_Yukio ignored him and continued. "Though taming a hobgoblin is no grand feat, it does show potential." He smiled warmly and I forgot my anger. "It would be a pleasure to have you at cram school."_

"_No."_

_He frowned and nodded. "Very well. Then I'll need you to hand over the hobgoblin."_

_I clutched Behemoth to my chest. "If I attend cram school, you'll let me keep Behemoth?"_

"_Yes," he paused to adjust his glasses. "If you take classes, I'll have no reason to forcibly remove your familiar from you."_

"_...Three days. I will go for three days and if I don't like it, I get to leave. No questions asked and Behemoth stays with me."_

_Yukio stared at me, searching my face, scrutinizing me. And then, he nodded. "Fair enough."_

"_Awesome!" Rin wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "By the way, I'm an expert so if you have any questions, just ask me!" His brother sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose._

Mephisto let out a sigh as I finished my story, gloved fingers gently rapping against his desk. "So you need my permission?" His voice was firm and angry, just as I expected.

"I don't _need_ your permission, big brother. I am only here because you are closer than the hospital. I already spoke with Mr. Doctor and he's willing to sign the form if you don't."

Big brother remained silent, staring at me with disgust. But I was used to his harsh treatment and glared back. Ever since our first argument, he's treated me differently, as though there was something wrong with me. I can understand why; I became a stranger to him after my accident, speaking differently, behaving differently, having different interests. It was difficult for him to accept that his precious little brother, someone he once had a close relationship with, was no longer there, instead replaced by an unfamiliar boy who used his name.

His denial made me angry. He continued to push hobbies onto me, claiming that I used to indulge in eccentric activities before I changed. One day I couldn't take the pressure and, like a pot of boiling water, I exploded.

Our relationship was never the same after that.

I no longer went to his office when I felt lonely and he didn't feel it was necessary to invite me to his manor for dinner. A part of big brother, naturally, still refused to believe what had happened, hoping that I would come back to him and everything would be just as it was before.

I couldn't help but see his ambitions as pathetic and that made me incredibly sad. I love big brother, and to see him like this, knowing that it was my fault...

He let out another heavy sigh and rubbed his temples. "Amaimon," he began, speaking slowly, each word separate and distinct. "I know how much you love Behemoth, but you _can't_ do this. It's far too dangerous. You'll get hurt... Or worse."

I've been hit by a speeding vehicle and he thinks a _class _about demons is too dangerous?

I laughed once without humor and raised a brow in disbelief. "I didn't come here to hear your opinion on my decision." He glared. "If you're not going to sign it, then tell me instead of wasting my time."

Mephisto clenched his jaw, but didn't respond. He picked up a pen and quickly scribbled his name at the bottom of the paper. When he was finished, he slid it over to me. I snatched the paper from his desk and left, unable to face the disappointment and cruelty in his expression.

Talking with big brother always made me feel horrible. I knew he didn't deserve the treatment I was giving him, knew it wasn't fair, but I hated him for being unable to accept me as I was. And yet I still loved him. But that love, fragments of an image that never seemed to fade or appear, was slipping through my fingers, impossible to grasp, like grains of sand.

My Monday had gone from peaceful to morose and the weather seemed to pick up on my sour mood. The sky was bleak with thick, graying clouds gathering in the distance. Thunder rumbled ominously and the crisp scent of ozone lingered in the air.

I hoisted myself onto the highest level of the fountain at the academy's main gates, wanting a quiet place to calm my nerves. But, like all things, it didn't last long. I was ripped from my thoughts and the soothing sounds of trickling water when I heard a familiar voice.

"Go ahead; I'll catch up."

I told myself Bon didn't see me, that he would just walk by without batting an eye. Lately, he's been ignoring me, forgetting our dinner arrangements, as though I never existed. I tried to appear uninterested in his presence, but, silently, I hoped he would give me the attention I so desperately craved.

He sat down on the base of the fountain. "Amaimon, how do you get up that high without getting wet?"

"I don't know how you think you can call me by my first name."

I heard a sigh and knew he was rolling his eyes. "Can we talk?" His voice was stern and irritated by my childish response.

"Hpmh." I huffed and turned away.

"Get down here, Amai." Reluctantly, I complied and took my place on the base of the fountain. I could feel his eyes burning a hole into me, noticing the obviously wide berth I had given him. "Amaimon, I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say."

I scooted closer and tilted my head. "What was that?"

"I'm sorry."

I cupped a hand to my ear. "I can't hear you."

He chuckled and punched me lightly. I could always forgive Bon; he had only ever been nice to me, accepting of me from the moment we first met. I, at least, owed him this much, though, occasionally, such easy acceptance made me feel uncomfortable and dubious of my own intentions.

"I don't want you to think it's your fault."

"I know it's not."

"Because nothing is ever your fault, right?"

"Of course."

He laughed. "I suppose there's no excuse for my actions," he stared down at his hands as he spoke. "A lot of things have changed in the past few days and it's been a little frustrating to take in at once."

"Is this about demons?"

Bon glanced up briefly, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"How _didn't_ I know?" I scoffed. "This entire town is obsessed with demons. It's ridiculous."

He continued, brushing my response off. "I've been stressed about it lately and it's... It's caused me to forget about the important things in my life." I could imagine the warm, apologetic smile on his face, but his words did little to impress me.

I crossed my arms tightly against my chest. "If you're trying to flatter me, it's not working."

He sighed, the hopeful, benign tone gone. "When I was a kid, everyone around could see things I couldn't. I was the son of the head priest, so I lived a pretty sheltered life. I guess that's why I wanted to leave so badly..." his voice trailed off and he buried his face in his hands. "I'm afraid of change, but I thought it would be easier if I had my friends here. When," he paused to draw in a shaky breath. "When we had to receive demon temptaint for class I... I was afraid of all the new things around me and clung to what made me comfortable. I didn't want to ignore you. I knew I was doing it, but I-"

I placed my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm used to being ostracized. I was only slightly upset with your abandonment."

"Don't say shit like that, Amaimon. It _doesn't_ make me feel better." He placed a hand over mine. This was the first time he had touched me and the sensation of his calloused skin was perversely inviting.

"I don't like change, either." I carefully reached up to take his hand away from mine. "It doesn't feel good knowing things will never be the same."

"Amaimon," Bon's voice was gentle. "Just because you lost your memories, doesn't mean you lost who you are."

"No, that's not true," I hesitated, thinking back to the cruelty reflected in Mephisto's eyes. "Whoever I was before is gone now."


	7. A Terrible Task for Two

Bon agreed to escort me to cram school, though the procedure was rather complex and peculiar. I followed him to a back door, one I recognized as a maintenance closet, and watched curiously as he inserted a small golden key, turned it, and opened the door. What lied beyond that door was _not_ a maintenance closet. It opened up to an impossibly endless hallway with incredibly large doors. Numbers were engraved into the designs on the rightmost side of each decorative opening.

I stared at him, dumbfounded, expecting an explanation. But he just shrugged. "Don't ask; I have no idea."

Our room wasn't far, about half a block away from where we entered. Waiting patiently outside the door, fidgeting nervously, was a small, blonde girl in traditional clothing. Yukio stood beside her, smiling at us as we approached.

"Go ahead, Suguro."

I couldn't help myself and eyed the girl intently. Her hair curved gently under her chin, its fair shade accentuating the emerald of her eyes. She was delicate, beautiful, and petite; her head barely reached my shoulders, and, like her frame, her hands were small and fragile. A light, flowery scent lingered on her, like a spring breeze.

"U-Um... He-Hello." She simpered nervously under my scrutinizing stare.

"You smell like chrysanthemums."

"Oh... Uh..." her eyes widened and her bottom lip trembled. I leaned forward slightly, swallowing the urge to bite it.

"Alright," Yukio's stern voice grabbed my attention. He seemed uncomfortable with my sudden interest in the girl. "Let's go."

The classroom was in complete disarray, like it was abandoned years ago and hasn't been used since. Paint was peeling off the walls, spider lines covered the room, and a number of the florescent lights needed to be replaced. I couldn't imagine how this disgusting environment could be healthy for a group of students, much less how they could pay attention with black mold and no view of the outside world. At least the tables were organized neatly: columns of three and rows of five, each seating two students. I counted them as we entered; there were less than ten.

"Please take your seats." Yukio stood next to the podium, suddenly taking on a professional edge. It didn't come as a surprise that he was an instructor. "Two new students will be joining us today. This is Moriyama Shiemi," he motioned to the blonde girl. "And Baal Amaimon. Now, have a seat and we'll begin class."

Moriyama sat beside Rin, who waved her over. I decided to take the empty table behind them and next to Bon.

Cram school was, unsurprisingly, just as boring as regular school. Few things supplied me with enough interest to prevent me from daydreaming. The teachers spoke in dull tones, read long passages from textbooks, and expected us to copy notes off the blackboard. By the time we were able to leave the classroom for practical training, I could barely keep my eyes open.

Now I understood why Bon complained about Rin sleeping in class so often. I wasn't sure if I could handle two more days of this; it was pure torture.

"So, Amai," Bon leaned against the wall beside me as we waited for the teacher to arrive. "How do you like your first day?"

"It's awful. Kill me and end my suffering."

"Pfft, right?" Rin let out an exaggerated sigh as he sat down nearby. "When do we get to fight stuff instead of this evading shit?"

"We can't rush into a fight without understanding _how_ to fight, you _idiot_!"

"Sure we can," Rin continued, unaffected by Bon's bitter glare. "It's called 'hands-on training'."

I tilted my head toward him, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Why are you so eager to fight? You're just like Astaroth."

He snapped his head up to meet my gaze, an unusually worried expression adorning his normally effervescent face. "Gather 'round, everyone!" The instructor entered the platform, hands tucked neatly behind him. "For today's lesson, you'll be working in pairs." He nodded to a group of cages suspended in the center of an arena below us. Each held what appeared to be a colossal-sized frog. "The goal is for both of you to aid each other and successfully evade the reaper for five minutes." He turned back to us, a smile emphasizing his abnormally large chin. "Any questions? Yes, Mr. Baal?"

"How did you get your chin to have that shape?"

He didn't look amused. "Are you volunteering to go first?" I shrugged. "Very well. Who would like to go down with Mr. Baal?" Bon raised his hand, but Shima grabbed his attention first.

"I'll go!" He wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I shivered with disgust. "We can handle a stupid frog, right Amai?"

"I hope it breaks you in half and devours your intestines." Shima released me and stepped away with a nervous chuckle.

"Alright. Please wait in the arena." Mr. Teacher made his way to the suspended platform in the center while we slid down a ladder. He gave us a few simple instructions on how to evade it, and then released one of the frogs from its cage. It wore a thick collar that was attached to a chain he held in both hands. I felt pity for the creature, but, as it wasn't my kin, the feeling was brief.

It hopped over to us and stared, eyes flicking between me and Shima. The reaper was rather docile and, sensing no threat, I patiently waited for it to decide to attack. Shima, however, was nervous and trembled as the frog closely examined him. A moment later, it roared, flashing a row of flat, rounded teeth, and charged at him. He screamed and ran, leaving me alone by the ladder to watch them.

"Mr. Baal!" The teacher scolded me after they had made a few laps. "If you don't help your partner, you'll fail today's class!"

"I'd rather fail. This is more fun."

The reaper wasn't very fast, but neither was Shima. He stumbled over his feet as he struggled to escape, fueled on adrenaline and fear. I silently hoped it would catch him, take him in its mouth, and chew him until he was nothing but a pile of unrecognizable muscle and bone.

"Amai!" I looked up to find Bon glaring down at me. "Get in there and help him!"

"Fine." Reluctantly, I pushed myself off the wall and stepped in front of the frog as it passed. It slid to a stop, confused and curious. Shima stumbled to his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath.

"Th-Thanks..."

"Very impressive, Mr. Baal," Mr. Teacher complimented, leaning over the railing to get a better view. "Most students your age can't calm a reaper this quickly." He smiled and nodded in approval. I raised a brow, unsure of what caused him to praise me. "You two are done," he waved a hand. "Next pair!"

"Are you alright?" Bon helped Shima up as he reached the top of the platform.

He breathed and remained on his knees. "I'm done with demons for today."

"Amai!" Rin pulled me off the ladder with incredible strength. "That was _so_ cool!"

"What was cool?"

"I can do it too! Watch!" Rin grabbed the ladder, but Bon stopped him, snatching the collar of his shirt.

"Are you crazy? You'll get hurt!"

Naturally, Rin erupted in anger and an argument ensued between the two. "What are you, my mom? I can take care of myself!" He slapped Bon's hand away.

"This isn't just about you," he shouted in response, eyes hard and narrowed. "If you act recklessly, your partner might get hurt too!"

"_Your partner might get hurt too, boo hoo_." Rin gave a sarcastic expression, voice mocking Bon's deeper tones.

"Next pair!"

He stuck his tongue out at his rival and slid down the slanted edge of the platform. "Damnit, Okumura!" Bon quickly followed him.

"Morons." The purple-haired girl scoffed at their childish behavior. I hummed in agreement.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hope this chapter isn't too boring. I'm always worried that this story isn't entertaining enough. Anyway, thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed! I _especially_ want to thank those that have taken the time to leave a review. It really makes my day and motivates me to do my best for you. So thank you very much to everyone who has read!**


	8. At the Crossroads

Unfortunately, no one was eaten or snapped in half, and so, my first day of cram school ended rather dully. My hopes for witnessing an untimely death waned as the second day passed and I realized how meticulous the instructors were with safety. Tomorrow was my final day with the exorcists and I was eager to finish it and get my quiet evenings back. I will miss sharing a class with Bon, however, since our friendship has improved with regular contact.

He seemed to feel the same.

"Are you really going to quit, Amai?" Bon moved his desk chair closer to mine as he dried his hair. The scent of his soap was maddening and made my lower abdomen tingle. "You've only been here for two days."

"I'm not good at it," I responded flatly, fidgeting with the gauze that covered my scar in an attempt to distract me from his irresistible presence.

"Not good at it?" He scoffed. "Are you shitting me? You're better with plants than Okumura-sensi and he _teaches_ the fucking class!"

I rolled my eyes and flipped through my algebra textbook, no longer interested in him. "Don't care. I'm quitting."

"Don't waste your talent like this, Amai," he urged. "You'll be an amazing Doctor _and_ a Tamer! We could really use you on our team. There are hundreds of thousands of demons out there and only a few of us. Don't you want to help people?"

"No."

He sighed. "Three days isn't enough to make an important decision like this."

"It's enough for me."

"Amaimon," he tilted my chin so we made eye contact. "Just think about it for a little longer."

I slapped his hand away and glanced at Behemoth, who was asleep in a ball on my pillow. I didn't want to become an exorcist knowing I would aid in the slaughter of thousands of innocent animals. But I _did_ want Bon to shut up. "Okay, you win. I'll attend class for the remainder of the week."

And then I'll quit.

He smiled, relieved for some reason. "Thanks, Amai. Cram school seems to be a lot less stressful with you there."

I raised a brow at his comment, but he immediately turned away, embarrassed by what he had said. "You doing my math homework would be a lot less stressful for me."

He chuckled and hit me playfully with his towel, dark, wet strands stuck to his face. "Nice try."

The following morning, Yukio was ecstatic to hear that I would be continuing my training until the end of the week. He briefly mentioned something about an exam before we were interrupted by a boisterous Rin.

"Hey! I was just about to go looking for you!"

"You're up rather early, aren't you?"

"Pssh," he rolled his eyes. "As if you would know."

"You're always asleep in class, so I assume you stay up late and sleep in."

"That's...oddly observant of you, Amaimon." Yukio didn't sound impressed.

"Whatever." Rin suddenly shoved a burgundy box into my hands. It was warm and emitted a wonderfully delicious scent. "I made you lunch! Uh, but," he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "It's not because I like you. It's for trying to hurt your familiar the other day." He smiled.

"You don't like me?" I wanted to sound innocently disappointed, but, as usual, my tone was empty.

"N-No! I like you! It's just that... I don't _like you_ like you. Y'know?"

I didn't know what he meant and I feared the more he tried to explain, the less I would comprehend, so I changed the subject. "That's nice of you, Rin." I held the bento out to him. "But I'm not angry at you, so you have nothing to atone for. Why don't you give it to a girl you like?"

His smile faded rather quickly, causing Yukio to come to his aid. "Amaimon, when someone offers you a gift they made, it's common courtesy to accept it." He lowered his head so the light reflected on his glasses ominously.

I shrugged. "You don't have to be jealous that your brother made me a meal. I'm not interested in him."

His jaw tightened. "I am not _jealous_. Nii-san makes dinner for us every night."

"But he didn't make you lunch today, did he?" Rin stifled a laugh, tears forming in his eyes from strained effort. "I will accept this, but only because it upsets you." I took the box back.

Yukio shook his head in consternation and briskly walked away, fists clenched. Rin immediately erupted into laughter. "I thought I was the only one who enjoyed pissing him off!"

The first bell rang, ending our short meeting. "I can't be late for history again."

"See you tonight." He waved to me as we separated.

I rounded the corner, following the crowd of students as they rushed by, and examined the bento Rin had given me. It was a plain, solid-colored box, about the size of my textbook, with three dividers and a small compartment in the front for chopsticks. I recognized the scent of rice and salted beef.

I would never admit this in front of Rin, but this was the best gift I could ever receive. The allowance big brother gave me each month wasn't enough to afford well-prepared food from the cafeteria. Bon and I compiled our money and lived off instant noodles, microwavable meals, and, rarely, a discounted sandwich from the cafe. I didn't feel as though I'd done anything for Rin to deserve a homemade lunch, but, if he wanted to make food for me, I wouldn't refuse.

Uncontrollable hunger gnawed at me and, before I knew it, I had sat down to eat. As I went to open it, the box was snatched out of my hands.

"_See you tonight_," Astaroth, dressed in the academy's uniform, mocked Rin in a high-pitched tone as he sniffed the bento. "Yuck, what the fuck is this?"

"Rin made me lunch."

He snorted, unamused, and opened it, revealing a collection of rice, beef, and a couple unfamiliar side dishes. "Aww, how sweet. Don't worry, baby bro. I'll save you the trouble of having to dine on such _disgusting_ human amenities." He removed the chopsticks from their compartment and began shoveling food into his mouth. "So, since the prince is your new boyfriend, I need you to do me a favor."

I jumped to my feet, scowling. "That's _mine_."

"And now it's mine," he said, grinning. Anger burned hard in my chest, so much that it overwhelmed me and I couldn't retort. "You need to eat," he paused to point the chopsticks at me. "That's why have such a weak personality and don't mind sharing a room with _humans_. But, because you don't remember you're a demon, you probably don't know what demons eat." He paused to chew another mouthful of meat. "Bet you're glad ole Astaroth is still on your side, huh?"

The second bell rang, making me late for class. "Get to the point."

He swallowed and tossed an index card at me. It had an address written on one side. "Bring the young master here and I'll reward you with a feast!"

"A feast?" My heart pounded painfully in my chest.

"Yep. All you can eat. Ah, but you'll have to bring Rin to me first."

"No, _you_ give me the food first."

He hesitated, scrutinizing me through narrowed eyes. Finally, he nodded. "I guess you'll need your strength to drag him down there. Okay, deal. Come by tomorrow and I'll have it ready."

"Can I bring a friend?" Bon would enjoy a nice, warm meal away from the academy.

He shrugged a shoulder lazily. "Sure."

"...Are you going to hurt Rin?"

Astaroth closed the finished bento. "Me? _Hurt Rin_?" He spoke with exaggerated surprise. "I would _never_. We're just going to have a small chat with father like a normal, well-behaved family."

"Are you going to hurt Rin?" I repeated, hardening my tone.

A wide, twisted grin stretched across his face as he tossed the empty box at me. "Of course not. Father on the other hand..."

"Father? Who's father?" The word tickled something in the back of my mind, a horrible memory I didn't want to relive.

"Don't worry, baby bro. He wants to..._talk..._to you, too."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm a little unhappy with how this is turning out. I don't know exactly what it is that's bothering me (I think it's Amai's characterization), but it's making me want to restart _again_ and I don't want to. For right now, I'm just going to keep going and hopefully it will improve in quality the more I write. Any feedback or suggestions would be greatly appreciated!**


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